


Royally Flushed - Undress a character challenge

by Madame_Klancealot



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bottom Keith (Voltron), Field Trip, First Time, Gay, Gay Keith (Voltron), M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Poker, Sex, Strip Poker, Top Lance (Voltron), Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23682547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Klancealot/pseuds/Madame_Klancealot
Summary: Keith is rooming with his high school rival/nemesis, and can't get any shut eye. With that, Lance suggests they play poker. Strip. Poker.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 374





	1. Shirts

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the #undressacharacter challenge that has been super popular on instagram, so I joined the bandwagon. 
> 
> This is tier numero uno.
> 
> If you want to join and unlock more tiers, go to my instagram @vhms0ul  
> Like, comment and share the posts so that we can undress our boys some more. I promise you will be well fed in the end.

Not that Keith had requested a specific roommate for this tiring senior field trip. But it could have been absolutely anyone. Pidge, Hunk, Kinkaid… James. Fuck, even Lotor would have been a better option.

Except with Keith’s undenying lucky streak, he’s bunked with the one person he cannot fathom the ability to keep his cool around. 

Close to midnight, he can’t sleep because all he can think about is how shitty his luck is. 

With the lights turned off, their hotel room is pitch black with some residue of shadows filtering through the curtains from their window, the stark black lines of scary, halloweenie trees keeping Keith even more awake than necessary. 

Not that he’s going to get any sleep anyways. 

A loud exasperated groan reverberates from the twin bed next to his, a small aisle and a night table with a reading lamp their only separator. “Enough! Come on, mullet. I can feel your brood burn into the back of my skull…” Lance shifts in his bed, rolling over to face Keith’s expected brooding glare. 

Glowering this time, thinking Lance can’t see how angry he really is, all he does in return is brood harder at his roommate. 

Another exasperated sigh, a bit more dramatic this time, because, typical Lance, everything is drama around him. Unless he turns it into drama, of course. Of  _ course.  _

“M'not brooding….go to sleep.” Keith grounds his teeth and flips to the other side of his bed, but once his face faces the scary window revealing that a killer might be stalking their hotel room, he jumps back to facing Lance. 

_ Kill me now.  _

Lance’s lips are happily smirking that stupid, flirty smirk he always has plastered on around Keith. Be it during class, in the hallways or catching glares in the cafeteria; he can never be left alone by that stuck-up Latino kid. 

Those lips remain peeled up along his tan face, Keith can’t do anything but grunt his temper in return, flinging his duvet over his head to mask away his stupid roommate. 

His duvet peels off faster than you can say  _ fuck you. _ “Hey!” Keith rises quickly in his bed, obviously irritated by Lance interrupting his poor attempt at falling asleep. Or just ignoring the shallow asshole. 

“Obviously, you can’t sleep either. Whether it be that you’re stuck with me tonight, or that you’re scared of the dark.” Lance cooes the last part, turning on the reading lamp, a soft orange glow waking up the room. 

Keith shields away the onslaught of unwanted light with his arm, glaring over it to peer nasty eyes at his roommate. “Who says I can’t get any sleep?” He kicks his feet over the ledge of the bed, finding his gloves in the night stand’s drawer. Peeling them on, he thunders, “And I’m not afraid of the dark…” 

Might as well see where this is going since Lance has plopped himself on the floor in front of their beds pulling out a...deck of cards out of its holder. Keith drags on his sweats and black t-shirt, plopping down opposite Lance, crossing his legs. 

That smirk of Lance’s bolts itself to his sun-kissed face. He’s also shrugged on his dark blue t-shirt, that’s looking a little snug, and his black sweats; socks are absent though, like Keith, his toes curling while he shuffles the deck. 

Faster than a blink of an eye, Lance shuffles. He goes at it in different tricks, probably learned them through a tiktok, but it's impressive. Suppressing that he’s obviously entertained by Lance’s deck cutting, he crosses his arms, cocking a black brow at his forced room companion. 

“Well?” Keith prods, narrowing his eyes now. 

Lance keeps on shuffling, either to grind Keith’s gears or he’s on to his obvious master of play. “Impressed with my shuffling skills, mullet? Bet you can’t do this?” He proceeds to tip a small bunk of cards on top of each other in a zig-zag motion, it looks so cool, then claps them together. 

Dragging in a long breath, Keith cleans his front teeth instead, shrugging idly. “Is okay...learn it on TikTok?” 

“As a matter of fact, I teach others on the Tok. I’ve been practicing for years.” Lance muses, waggling his brows a tick, going all smooth. 

It’s pretty settled that Keith can’t stand this kid. Hasn’t been able to ease into him since junior year when they were placed in the same class, and has been during senior year too now. Not only that, they even sit next to each other in home room, which is super annoying. 

But this is the first time he’s actually learned this feat about him, not that he has a choice when dreamland proves to be difficult at the moment. 

Lance does another card trick, and it has Keith’s attention. Lips gliding into an easy smile, Lance proposes, “So, how about a round of poker?” He holds the deck up, waving it carefully in front of Keith’s face. 

Taking two seconds to mull on the suggestion, Keith says, “What? Lance, it’s almost midnight! We have that museum tour at like 7 in the morning...and I can’t wait to get my history on.” That last segment shoots out super sarcastic and gains a small snicker from Lance, Keith can’t help but smile at that. 

“Ah..” Lance keeps himself busy with the cards, staring intently at Keith. “You know we’re going to fall asleep standing up anyways, so how about it?” 

That look he’s making does something to Keith. He’s seen that look a plethora of times before at school. It’s his signature  _ challenge me Keith _ look, and it burrows into him every fucking time. Well, they don’t have anything better to do, but still- Keith purses his lips roughly to the side, twitching one eye trying hard to decide on a fatal answer. 

“Unless you’re scared you’ll lose.” Lance knows exactly what to say, and it has Keith’s blood boiling more and more for each time he goes there. 

Uncurling his crossed arms, he lays his gloved palms on each knee, looking down first at the floor between them, the cards now laid as a deck on it waiting for Keith’s final answer. Tipping his eyes up to meet with Lance’s heinous challenging stare, he says, “Fuck off, McClain. I happen to be a pro in poker, my big bro taught me everything there is to know about bluffing.” His legs stretch out along the carpeted floor, ready for this game to set in motion. 

A tongue slips out of Lance’s perky mouth. “Well then, that should imply challenge accepted.” He beseeches, riding the tip of his tongue over a sharp canine. 

Keith responds with an obvious huff from his nose, waiting for Lance to deal. 

Reading him loud and clear, Lance starts shuffling a final time, simple and quick, but something takes control of him- his lips grow into a cocky smile. “How about…” He shuffles super fast now trying to steal all of Keith’s attention, he does so without any issue. His face leans closer to Keith’s though, a heavy wave of coconut shampoo and vanilla body butter intruding Keith’s senses. “We make it more interesting?” Lance probes, a loud mischievous twinkle glimmering in those blue eyes. 

What he is plotting? But he has Keith’s utmost attention now. “I’m listening.”

Doesn’t matter what he suggests, all he wants from this is to see Lance squirm from losing against Keith like he always does. Each challenge he brings on the table, let it be during P.E, Home-Ec or just a casual race to their classroom, Keith wins every time. A simple game of poker with a little wager can’t do any harm. Can it? 

A low, dark chuckle escapes Lance. That doesn’t sound good. Keith keeps his heart steady, forcing it to pick up any pace. Wait and see what he has to suggest. 

“So.” Lance cuts out, slapping the deck in his palm, “Instead of like wagering our allowance or paychecks or whatever, cuz that’s like super boring...we make this into-” 

The build up is literally killing Keith inside. His eyes widen mercilessly, waiting and waiting…

“strip...poker.” 

That does it. It can get worse. Keith’s heart races at the suggestion, but he can’t chicken out. He just can’t. Instead of feigning fright, he keeps his face completely guarded, aloof. 

“Unless that gives you the jitters...Kogane.” Lance taunts him, and that was the last straw. 

Rather, he doesn’t mind this one bit. Lance is hot, he’s thought that a while, but that mouth of his is so unattractive he hasn’t felt the need to do anything about this fucker’s body, until now that it. “I’m in.” Keith curls his lips cooly, pretending his heart isn’t trying to dig a way out of his chest. 

“Ah, a wise guy we have here. You think you can win over me?” 

“I know so. Like I said, I know everything there is to know.” 

Lance sucks loudly at a tooth, “We’ll see about that. You underestimate my power, Kogane. Prepared to be royally... _ flushed _ .” He starts dealing the deck fleetingly, one card, two, three, four, five. “Red, hot and embarrassed all over.” Lance mutters under his breath, but his alluring blue eyes slightly tip up to gather if Keith got that. 

“Reverse uno card.” Is all Keith has to reiterate. 

Jaw dropping and cackling, Lance guts out, “This is poker, not uno, mullet.” Then shakes his head all amused and keeps on shuffling while he laughs quietly, but Keith grows impatient grunting for Lance to get a move on. 

“I’m almost done, jeez. Hold your fucking horses, man. You that antsy to lose your clothes?” Lance shakes his head again, unabashed. Once they each have 5 cards in their hand, Lance slaps the deck smack dab in between them, then curls his fingers under the hem of his t-shirt. 

“Here...lemme give you a head start since you’re being so unbelievably cocky.” In less than a second his shirt is off, leaving him sitting topless in front of Keith. 

Trying not to die from heart-attack, Keith forces to avert staring too hard on Lance’s toned naked upper body. We’re talking toned pectorals, abs for days and lean muscles bumping nicely along his arms. 

_ Fuuuuuuck. _

A sly smirk traces across Lance’s face, his eyes dabbing with more tease. “Pick up your hand, let’s play poker. You lose the round, you lose the shirt, capiche?” 

Suddenly Lance is all demanding, and Keith can’t do anything but obey his strict tone. Damn, how can he be so annoying at one point then incredibly desirable in the next? 

They play. Keith lifts up his cards, studies them. If they’re playing regular poker, then he can burn as many cards as he wishes from his hand. Keep a straight, unreadable face, he urges himself, but his cards suck. He has a pair, but it’s a pair of twos, but he also has a queen, a king and a seven. He’ll burn the seven and hope for two pairs and that Lance folds. 

He throws his seven to the floor, drawing a card from the top of the deck. Before he looks at it, he sees Lance is burning two of his cards. Once Lance draws two cards, his eyes not leaving Keith’s once, they make a silent deal. 3-2-1 and they flip their cards, studying them. 

Fuck, a four. Should he fold or bluff? He keeps a deceiving smirk on his face, hoping it’s believable. Lance leaves his face blank, close to impossible to read. 

Keith clenches his jaw. He’s royally fucked this round is what he is. At long last, he concedes by laying his hand down on the floor hoping it’ll gain him a win. “A pair.” He grumbles. 

His eyes flit from his hand up to Lance who is repressing a delighted smile. “Hate to say it…” He laughs, “What am I saying, I love this-” He then deadpans, and smacks his trips on the floor, thumbing his nose. 3 queens. Damn, lucky draw. 

Lance then motions with a stray finger at Keith to do the deed, not uttering a single word, but his dancing lips are screaming asshole. 

A long shuddered breath rips out of Keith’s nostrils like fire as he pinches the back of his t-shirt and drags it off in one flitting motion, mirroring Lance with his topless state. 

“Happy?” He flatlines at the tan jerk. 

And in that moment, Lance closely observes Keith’s half-naked self. His eyes start from Keith’s gaze, but slowly dips taking in every inch of him. Then once he’s satisfied, both corners of Lance’s lips tip up, “Very. Ready for the next round?” He jumps right in and brooms the cards from the floor, shuffling anew. 

“N-next round?” Keith asks, his cheeks heating. How far are they going?

Sporting an incredulous grimace, Lance scoffs, “Uh, yeah...we’re only getting started, mullet. Next round pants be catching fire.” He leans down on both of his elbows now, like he’s doing a mellow yoga pose, “You know, unless you’re chicken?” 

Keith cocks his head to the side, igniting a fire in Lance’s blue eyes. 

“Just deal.” 

  
  



	2. Pants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next tier has been unlocked! 
> 
> Follow my instagram to see when the next tier will be unlocked and posted. Always posted first there. @vhms0ul

Oh how the tables have drastically turned. 

Lance was thrilled to learn he was bunking with his nemesis, his mother fucking rival, Keith, during their field trip. He knew how much he got under the mullet's skin, and rooming with him only meant more tormenting the tempered jack-hole. 

He can’t, simply can’t stand the mullethead. With that ridiculous cowlick he always denies- which is in matter of fact a fucking 80s mullet. Just show him an 80s flick and he can’t sweep that under the rug. 

So now that he has the boy jammed in a headlock under a few rounds of strip poker, all he can do is bask and fawn over the fact that he’s enjoying this more than anticipated. 

Right. Undeniably, along with that obvious mullet, Keith is over the top hot. Hawt. Spicy. Has been ever since he laid eyes on the fair-skinned boy sophomore year, running track in tight elastic shorts and a super, super tight singlet. Like, come on, no one can keep their eyes away from the way his body is built. We’re talking pure, genius craftsmanship right there. And not that Lance joined track junior year all to keep his eyes glued to his rival’s yummy muscly body, but he likes going against him in stupid challenges from time to time, because it riles him up and that face he makes when he explodes, priceless entertainment. 

“All set? You’re not going to run into the shower and splash ice water all over yourself, are ya?” Lance gets straight back into business, taunting Keith, because, well, taunting Keith is what he’s got a masters in, practically. 

Keith grunts again. (Something he’s perfected over the past two years he’s been forced to know Lance.) “Oh, mullet, nothing to be mad about, it’s just pants.” 

“I’m not scared, numbskull. You’re taking too long to deal…” Keith complains, and Lance rolls his eyes, cutting the deck once, then twice, does a little neat trick for shits and giggles, then finally deals 5 news cards each. 

He slides his hand up, trying to avoid Keith seeing his hand. His eyes tip from above his cards, staring under his lashes, attempting to read Keith’s bluffing face. God, he’s too easy to read. 

Lance learned all of his tells during junior year. If he jabs his tongue to his inner right cheek, he’s fucked. If his brows raise all surprised, he has good cards. If his eyes pinch a little hard and crinkle at the corners revealing lines, then he’s trying too hard to keep a straight face. 

The best tell is hair pulling. Could be he just likes his hair being pulled. An image of pulling Keith’s hair has Lance’s thighs tensing suddenly. Hoof, don’t go there yet, Lancey. 

Can he admit that he has the red-hot hots for his rival? Yeah. YES. He can run to the balcony and scream yes with all the air in his lungs without Keith even knowing what it is he’s confessing. Alas, he’s aware of how much Keith hates his guts, and proceeds to keep it like that. 

Not his fault he’s like this, it’s embedded in his DNA, being an annoying fucker is his nature. It’s how he gets by! Still, ever since he learned he was going to bunk up with his long-time crush, he thought he might as well plot something that can spell F-U-N for him. And for the mullet- does he even know what having fun even means?

Like, if it weren’t for Lance, he’d never be introduced to their best friends, Pidge and Hunk. He wouldn’t have been invited to top tier parties at Lotor’s place. And Ryan and James, their school’s biggest jocks wouldn’t even know Keith’s name. In retrospect of this whole fucking thing, he should be thanking Lance. 

In a sense, he is. By looking scrumptious all topless like that. Lance swears, if they were boyfriends he’d go find the chocolate syrup and a can of whipped cream. They’d do other things than strip poker tonight to say it like that. 

Complaints and wet dreams aside, Lance takes pleasure and leisure into Keith’s ripped body. Honestly, how does one keep their body looking like that all the time? He must work with weights every freaking hour of the day. His pectorals are perfectly shaped like his biceps, those triceps are mountains, damn you, and his stomach. Lance sends a silent prayer up to the fatherly heavens who poured a little more water in Keith’s abdominal cup than any of the other cups, and tries to feign away any horny tendencies when his eyes stay locked on the hard, dipping and defining ridges of Keith’s picture-perfect abs. 

“Lance?!” Keith heaves him out of his ab-scape stupor. 

His eyes shoot up to Keith, who’s shaking his head at him wondering what the fuck is going on in his brain. _ It’s all you and your yummy body, baby,  _ Lance sinks into a drunken smile, keeping his naked toes curled. 

“I’m in, I’m here. Let’s….see.” He can’t for the life of him, focus on his cards since the low orange glow of the lights are casting shadows on Keith’s stomach sending Lance’s dick towards the sky. 

He bites into his inner cheek to keep his eyes locked on his cards. Okay, a queen, two eights, that’s good, a four and a three. If he burns his three and four, he can hope for two pairs, but if he burns his queen and two eights, he might be lucky to draw a straight. Maybe he’s lucky enough and can win with a full house. 

All he knows is that the main goal of this night is to get the boy in front of him, along with that stupid cowlick of his, completely naked. But that relies heavily on being a damn good bluffer. Good thing he’s amazing at that. 

His unlatching grin morphs to a cocky, uptight smirk. Waving his hand in his face like a fan, he thumbs two of his cards, watching them drift to the floor, drawing two new cards. Relentlessly, it’s unheard of to keep his bluffing face turned to max. A fucking three and a four. Back to square one. 

“You don’t look so hot.” Keith notes, having a nibble at his lower lip. 

Lance sucks in a breath, but his heart is thundering under his chest. Keith and lip biting go together like a hand to his throbbing cock. Fuck, it’s intense, his eyes are all shadowing and mesmerizing. Hell, he even smells delicious Lance wouldn’t mind taking a large bite out of him any second. 

His gaze burns, sears into his cards. He wants to win, badly. He wants that asshole in front of him out of his pants. He needs to see that….that large, speed bump to put it all novel. “I’m fine. Dandy. Peachy. Great. Fabulous. Wonder-” 

“Lance.” Keith says his name with a stern tone. Maybe he’s into it, but yeah, he’s into it. He’ll obey that tone, no questions asked. “You ready?” 

Angling his head to the right, then a little jerk to the left, he rides his teeth over his lower lip like a wave. “On three?” He asks with a flick of his brows. 

Keith nods. “3.”

“2.”

“1!” They both say, and lay their cards flat. 

With big eyes, Keith easily reveals that he has nothing. Nada. Zero. 

ZILCH MOTHERFUCKER. 

“Pants...off...mullet.” Lance enunciates all pleased with himself. 

Keith broods at him with those dark eyes, but he doesn’t deflect with any mean retorts and obeys nicely while peeling off his loose sweats. 

The world stops once Lance catches a gaze of Keith in deep, rich red briefs. The tight-fit kind, that shapes everything...perfectly. 

_ Breathe, Lance. Breathe!  _

Learning to fucking breathe, Lance can’t keep his eyes off the large speed bump in the middle. Heaven in the sky, this confirms he’s as bisexual as you get them. Hoof, move over ladies, he might as well just be plain gay as fuck. 

“Here. I won’t let you embarrass yourself.” Lance does them both another favor and rips off his own sweats, sitting on his sharp buttcheeks in his bright cerulean blue, silk boxers. Now, silk is nice on the skin, but it doesn’t reveal anything, so if Keith wants to see a little (big) something, something, he’s gonna have to go in it to win it. 

“Lance, what’s the point of even playing if you’re going to strip every time I strip?” Gruffs Keith, displaying a nice nuance of his briefs on his sweet, apple cheeks. 

Lance cooes back with a nice comeback, “Because...I know how flustering this is, and the next round I won’t take off anything, because all I have left to take off are my boxers, but you-” He waves a frisky finger, sliding a tip along the leather of Keith’s elegant gloved hands, a spark of friction when his pad reaches warm skin. 

Lance winks. “You still have these bad boys to lose.” 

“What if I win next round, shouldn’t you lose the briefs? It’s only fair.” Keith challenges, licking his lips all seductively. Probably not even aware of his sexual prowess, the poor soul. 

“Fair is fair when we’re both in the same boat. How about if you win, I’ll let you do whatever you want with me for ten seconds. You can touch me…” Lance makes a steal for a gloved hand, copping Keith’s wrist. Then sends it down to gently, slowly, with care, brush the top of silk material. “Really...touch me? I can smell it on you, mullet. The attraction. You want it, just as much I want it.” 

He hears Keith swallow- a hard, tight swallow. His breathing coming out in palpitating flutters. His whole body is warm- ears and cheeks splotched crimson. Lance smooths a daunting hand over Keith’s chest, settling his palm between those perky pectorals. 

Lance breaks into a satisfied grin. Just as he thought, Keith's heart is hammering beneath his chest. 

“What do you say?” Lance whispers softly against his rival’s mane of soft, soft black hair.

  
He makes sure Keith feels his hot lips press on his temple, making his voice all husky, “You know, unless you’re chicken.”


	3. Gloves

The air in their room has become thick with lust. Lance’s palm is still resting casually between Keith's pecs, and his own hand is still hovering, barely brushing Lance’s middle...region. 

Holy shit cakes, how did this take a fucking hard right. Keith's swallow is tight, throat clogged with heat when he pulls his hand back from Lance’s cop. “F-fine.” He stutters. His words come out uncontrolled. No wonder, when Lance has become smooth talker of the year. What happened to the annoying boy he tried to avoid all of Junior year, who managed, despite that, wiggle his way into Keith’s life? 

How can this boy, who snorts soda through his nose when he laughs a storm be this...this fucking sexy? Casa-fucking-nova right here. Although, blue  _ silk _ boxers, come on. 

He does notice something about the boy in front of him. 

“You shave your legs?” 

Completely changing the subject, mostly to cool the heat between his thighs and not to reveal any obvious happiness going on down below. Lance cracks into a playful grin and lifts one very long, deliciously smooth leg up into the air. “Appreciate your noticing, mullet. I do shave them. Not to impress the boys and girls, though, mostly for practicality reasons.” 

Keith furrows his brows. “Like?” 

That puts on a seductive glare. Lance hums low, dragging it from all the way of the back of his throat. “You really wanna know?” He prods, but it’s a new challenge, their game of strip poker now on hold at the moment. 

What other reasons can there be for shaving legs if it isn’t for appearances? Sure, he bets gliding his legs against each other feeling the smoothness of them is one thing, but stubble grows out the second your razor digs into the skin. 

“Yes.” Keith deadpans. “I really want to know.” He then says all considerate.

The two of them share a cute, quick smile. It’s so short and sweet, Keith can’t hide his oncoming flush.  _ Dang.  _

Sweetness to the curb, Lance stretches both of his legs out on the floor, away from the card pit, and grabs at Keith’s hand again, this time without a fight. He slowly lets him ride his naked fingers from the edge of his heel, then glides them up along his calf, a small bump along the road of soft, smooth caramel skin, and then his fingers press into thigh- hot, blazing, thick thigh. Keith thrives in the touch, his eyelids drooping without falter, he allows the touch of Lance’s thigh sink in while sucking in a long breath. 

Keeping his eyes closed, Lance murmurs in his ear, “I shave my legs because when I come…” He pauses to see any effect from Keith; he remains completely and entirely still, Lance continues with that husky voice, repeating, “When I come...mullet." He can hear him lick his lips. "I tend to spill some on my legs...You see, I’m a squirter and always end up making a mess. It gets everywhere, so if I have hair on my legs, it’ll dry and cake up and then it’s impossible to wipe away, and then I have to shower and you have no idea how many times I jerk off in a day…” 

“Please stop talking.” That...does it. Keith can’t hide it anymore. 

One eye opens, and Lance has beat him in the race, his own eyes are already eating up the sight below them. “Looks like someone has a thing for dirty talk.” Lance snickers.

A small giggle escapes Lance, and he shuffles and skitters away from Keith, allowing, yet again, for his heat to cool down. “You still on for the next round?” 

Given that they’ve pretty much broken down every single barrier there is to sledge, might as well keep going. It’s not like they’re going to have sex? Be still, his heart, don’t fucking kill him now. 

“Course I’m on. I don’t back down on a challenge, McClain. No matter how challenging you make it.” 

“I like that spirit, Kogane. Let’s see if it’s still with you after you lose this round.” 

Lance starts cutting the deck again, dealing exceedingly fast this time. Gloves or touching, those are the wager this time around. He’s aware of how much Lance knows he hates him. But, he also brought forth the A-word to the table. Attraction. Can’t work against mother nature and all of her natural instincts. Keith is helplessly attracted to Lance, and Lance even admitted himself how much he wants this. But what the hell is this? Really? 

Reality check. What are they to each other? 

Ever since Lance dived into his life like a professional athlete, there’s never been a dull moment. To Keith’s stubbornness, he’s never admit once that he recognizes the two of them as… friends. More like two figures who are constantly orbiting or gravitating each other only to make the other fire up or lash out about something. Again, there’s never, ever a dull moment. 

These silly games, like now for instance, Lance is always suggesting to do a silly challenge or a race of some sort just to keep things interesting. In Keith’s mind’s eye, he wouldn’t have mind a day where they can keep it mellow, settled down. He can admit to say, to himself that is, that if Lance wants to just chill out together at their house or run laps together and just… be in each other’s company, no contests, no challenges, no nothing- just… them, he’d be happy to, no questions asked. 

Well, that is until he whips out something like this without any warning.

A cheeky smile revelations on Keith’s mouth, and Lance catches it. “You smiling about, mullet?” He guffaws, smacks his thick, naked thigh. “Could it be that.. no! You’re really enjoying this.” Those thin noisy brows waggle indiscreetly catching Keith red handed, or handed 5 new cards to get this show on the road already. 

“Shut your trap. Let’s play.” Keith mutters, but his smile is still unwittingly cheeky. And… he likes it. 

In his hand this time, he has one king, an eight, a nine, a two and a four. Keith seethes, what is with these fucking bad hands? The world is most certainly out to get him. Not that he doesn’t mind losing this round and losing his gloves, but what Lance did to his hand a moment ago, he needs that again, and stat. His primal instincts are taking over like fire to gasoline, it’s hair rising. 

Lance is still hard to read. He’s concentrating on his cards, plucking them from his hand and placing them back in his hand like he’s putting them in some kind of order. Either by number, hierarchy or symbol. If he has a straight or a straight flush, Keith is going to strangle the boy. Unless he’s into that, knowing the ignorant twink, he might be into that kind of play. 

Keith’s chest tightens, stomach lurching. He feels bad calling Lance a twink, maybe he hasn’t had that much sex, maybe the rumors are fake that he sleeps around. What does he know, rumors can fuck themselves. Everyone at school thought Keith was easy when they found out he was gay, but he’s never had sex in his life. It needs to be the right moment and the right person. 

His eyes latch onto Lance. He’s enjoying himself, humming a poppy tune that's highly contagious and waves his feet back and forth till the toes are touching and not touching. Every day they’ve been together, stuck like silly putty. How are they not friends? Son of a gun, how are they not best friends?

Keith needs clarification. “Lance...” 

“Hm?” He hums, burning a single card, drawing a new one. 

Keith builds up the courage, his heart beating, fluttering like a butterfly on speed in his chest. “Are we friends?” 

“You mean rivals. That’s the word you’re looking for, and this is poker, Keith, po-ker, not scrabble.” 

“No.” Keith becomes tense, his tone indicating Lance to look at him. He does as the tone instructs. “I mean it. Do you consider us...friends?” 

Tilting his head to the side, looking atrociously adorable with that sugary sweet, toothy grin, he counters back with a snicker, “Of course.” Then goes back to his cards. 

Well that was easy. 

Keith broods again. It wasn’t challenging enough, though. He ups the stakes. “Cool. But I see us as best friends, so, hah.” 

“As you wish, my lord.” Lance replies in a fake British accent, fanning his face with his cards now, his bangs gaining air, waiting for Keith to finish up. 

In a haste, and brain almost hot-wired by this sudden confessional, Keith bites down on his teeth, almost cutting his tongue. Right, how to win, how to fucking win. He burns his eyes in the cards. 

Should he burn any of them or just fold? 

If he folds that just means lose the gloves, no copping a feel, but whatever, he might win the next round. No, he  _ needs _ to win the next round. If it all plays out well he might still get to touch Lance. Dear lord, he wants to touch Lance. Of course he does, it’s not just primal instincts, he actually has- 

“I fold.” Keith throws down his cards backside up. 

Lance loses face and pushes himself up on his elbows, “No fucking way. You don’t go down unless you really go down, Kogane.” He urges himself to sweep Keith’s folded cards, “Lemme see what you had..” 

“Nope!” Keith flicks them away with one, swift flick of the wrist and the whole deck tumbles over them, never to reveal his loss. 

Rolling his endearing blue eyes, Lance kicks his long legs to the side, positioning to a sitting stance. “Fine, let’s peel those bad boys off.” 

Keith goes in to pull his gloves off without assistance, but Lance stops him with his hand, shaking his head.

“Allow me, mullet,” Lance insists with a buttered voice. 

He knees his way close to Keith, taking up the space between his thighs. He feels Lance's knees bump into his middle, sending his eyes up to the heavens above not to seem too obvious by the sudden contact. Lance just laughs low, like a breath fleeting past into the shadows beyond their window, and brings one of Keith’s gloved hands close to his golden face. 

Studying his gloved hand, Lance dances his head side to side, dropping his gaze to take care of those expensive, leather gloves. The tips of his fingers journey on past the back of Keith's hand, tasting leather into the pads of his fingers and unbuttons the strap first, then he pinches the hem of the material and drags. It doesn’t take long for the first glove to slide off and Lance is well on his way to pull off the second one. 

During the show, Keith tries with all of his undying might to keep his boxers loose. But, sprung and tight, he can’t take it. The yearn, the ache, the  _ want- _

Once the final glove is off, Keith thinks it’s over, about to sigh in relief-

Oh no, there’s more. 

A cheeky fiend of a the fine arts in masterful play, Lance caresses Keith’s hand, the one that’s fit perfectly in Lance’s palm, and pulls it close to his mouth now. Sucking in a long breath, Keith eyes his hand and watches as Lance presses a warm, wet kiss to his middle finger. 

Warmth blooms from those wet, plush lips as he keeps his heart at bay from the sudden impact. A swallow merges with his throat, gliding like soft, running honey, taking no notice to his instability to do anything right now. 

Calamity balls into his chest, everything erupting once Lance’s kiss falls and he’s now bringing Keith’s entire finger into his mouth. His eyes shoot open wide as craters, staring at Lance sucking his finger, the blue in those irises going haywire. Electric blue, sapphire gemstones, whatever the fuck, he’s sucking Keith’s finger God Damnit. And it feels… jaw breakingly amazing. 

He can’t hold it in. A moan spews out from the back of his throat, and Lance sucks harder. If he keeps going Keith might make a mess. “Lance...please…” His moans increase, and Lance is basking in the noise Keith is making in their room. Oh, sweet baby Jesus, how the tables have turned. 

For the better, albeit. 

With a pop, before climax, Lance licks his lips, happy with himself. 

“A consolation for losing thrice in a row, mullethead.” Lance mewls. 

“Fuck.” Keith breathes. 

Lance starts humming again, back to his spot on the carpet floor. 

Keith, well, his head is still spinning from what just happened. He needs a minute. And Lance gives him that, but that grin stays peeled pleasingly. 

With a sharp exhale, Keith has no idea what to say. He’s pretty much speechless at this point. 

How far are they going tonight? 

Finally, Lance opens his mouth, “So...next round. Final round.” He endorses, without Keith confirming because he knows Keith is going to burst soon anyways. He proceeds, “We’ll make it a win-win deal next wager. To help make sure that we have to go on.” 

“Sure, yeah, whatever-” Keith flings out eagerly, all set to play. He’s even sweeped the deck into his own hands, shuffling, though with poor skills compared to Lance. 

Lance bellows, “Aren’t you fucking eager.” 

“Yes! Why are we even playing anymore?” 

“Because it’s fun, and we need to deem one of us a soaring champion." Obviously. Lance falls backwards down on his palms, leaning on them while his face hits his shoulder. "So, next round give or take. Loser loses the briefs, and the winner…” 

Keith drags his head closer, angling it, arching a brow and waiting for Lance’s stupid dramatic build-up to flare red. 

“Gets a kiss.” 


	4. Briefs + A Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please head on over to IG and like, comment or share my latest post (this one) to unlock the final chapter, which will be NSFW. 
> 
> @vhms0ul

Keith shrieks without warning, “A kiss?!” 

Wincing at the blow, Lance drops his head back between his shoulders, ripping out an exasperated noise, “That’s what’s got your bones rattling?” He can’t fight away another loud laugh. “Honestly, you’re too pure, Keith. But yeah, thought a kiss might spice things up a bit.” 

Still in shock, Keith can’t seem to wipe off his flabbergasted state. “Keith.” Lance strokes his knuckles across his porcelain, smooth skin, it gives Lance goosebumps. “It’s just our lips touching, nothing scary about that.” 

His fingers leave Keith’s cheek when he swats them away in a fleeting heat, “I’m not saying I’m scared, I’m just taken aback that you don’t think taking our briefs off isn’t spicy enough for you. Do you understand how…” Keith pauses, smacking his lips like he’s picturing the feel of it. “intimate a kiss is?” 

Now Lance is the one taken aback. Curling his wavering hand into a loose fist, he peers down to the floor, mulling on that statement. Sure, a kiss is intimate, but it’s just two lips pressing together; nothing empowering about that, is there? 

But kissing Keith on the other hand. “I guess...I haven’t thought of it like that before. Sorry, we don’t need a kiss in the wager-” 

“No, no. No,” Keith shoots in, tugging into a lilting smile. “I never said I  _ didn’t _ want the kiss in the wager, just want you to know that it spices up more than losing our briefs. ‘Cause, like, I’ve seen you naked a bunch of times before, so nothing new there-” 

“Hey..” Lance pouts. “Rude.” He should be tantalized by the fact that he might get to see Lance naked this close up. 

Keith smiles, genuinely this time and it has Lance’s chest swelling. 

“Sorry, what I mean to say is, that I won’t be shocked at what I see...once you fucking lose!” He cackles sadistically, morphing into the stubborn, hot-head Lance has accustomed himself to these past three years. 

“Shh.” Lance touches his index finger in the middle of his lips, but it’s hard to repress a laugh when Keith is looking absolutely, completely adorable- his eyes closed shut, corners of his lips ear to ear and that sweet melodic laugh harmonizing his eardrums. 

His shoulders sag, releasing an exhale of sweet bliss. All it took was a game of strip poker. Kind of hilarious when he lingers on the thought, but no time like the present, they have a new round to play. Maybe the final round. 

Lance becomes aware of what’s at stake next. Win-win situations should be exhilarating, but not when it implies one of them losing their briefs and the other gaining a kiss. Well, it’s a win-win for Keith, or is it a lose-lose? Keith is obviously mortified by the fact of doing something as, his words, as intimate as stealing a kiss from Lance. 

He’ll gladly let Keith steal a kiss from him regardless of this little game of sudden death. Heck, he’ll be the one to initiate it if it becomes too much for the mullet. Like he said, it’s all there, the attraction, fuming around them in liquid desire. 

Getting better at his shuffling game, Keith starts dealing the cards. One, two, three to Lance, then three to Keith. One, two to Lance- Two to Keith. Guess to keep things interesting. And to keep his shaking fingers at the threshold. 

Another stare down, then they flip their cards. Alright, alright, Lance can work with this. Doesn’t matter if he loses, he’ll happily slide off his boxers without a second thought. But it’s knowing that the grand prize will be Keith’s lips sliding over his own. Sweet mercy does he want that to happen now that he’s so, so close. 

In light of it all, Lance has technically won, with three consecutive wins, but he wants to play fair too. “So, mullet. Y’all set to lose those pretty little briefs of yours?” 

“Quiet, I’m trying to focus.” Keith shushes him with a hiss through his teeth. 

Clamping his lips to hide his amused smile, Lance respects Keith’s order, going through his cards again. He tries to hide his excitement. All he needs is an ace. All he needs is an ace! How lucky can he be? 

Does he dare? 

Nothing to lose…

Other than his boxers. 

He burns a card. Draws a card. Doing that while holding his breath the entire time. 

Breath still in a pinch, he forgets that Keith exists for two seconds before he turns over the card in his hand. 

“I’m fucked, aren’t I?” Keith muses, and Lance tips up to find him smiling despite that comment. 

No use hiding it. “Keith…” Lance says his name with a childish, teasing smirk, “You are hereby royally flushed.” And he lays down his cards with finesse, one card laid nicely over the other like they do in the movies. 

Damn, a royal flush. Lady luck was on his side after all. Feeling like James Bond, sans a martini, shaken not stirred, he casts his shining blue eyes at Keith for his final words. “Read em and weep, mullet.” 

“The only thing weeping under this roof are my briefs.” Keith does a teasing eye roll, lifting up on his knees to pull down said briefs, but he stops up, growing acutely aware.

Keith has that affinity to him, becoming distinctly and acutely aware to things right before it all goes down. It’s happened on countless occasions. Like last weekend when they were at the movies. Alone. Lance was this close to close the fucking gap between them and then Keith triggered his fucking spider senses and pulled back right before he could land that plane without crashing and burning. 

He’s going shy, even when he was the one who stated having seen Lance naked before and that it wasn’t  _ anything new.  _ Bah humbug.

“Keith, are you backing out when we’re this close to the finish line?” Lance grumbles, obviously disappointed that Keith is this close to throwing in the towel. 

Though his thighs are hovering over his shins, he plops back down on them. “I was just wondering about something.” 

“Okay?” Lance furrows his brows, but isn’t given an answer until Keith starts crawling a path to him, diverting the cards strewn on the floor before them. Almost like that scene in Dirty Dancing, Keith plants one thigh on each side of Lance’s narrow hips, settling his bottom... _ there. _

A low grunt sidles out of Lance’s throat. Keith is...awarably and indisputably close, even closer than they were at the movies last weekend. One hand then the other settles heavily on Lance’s naked shoulders, feeling Keith’s fingers bury into his skin. Sucking in a long, long breath, Lance releases slowly, his exhalation throwing some of Keith’s mullet in the air. 

Aromas of lavender and salt caramel tickle his nose and cause all the hair on his neck and arms to rise, rise, rise. “I-” Keith whispers, a tight whimper following suit to his shy state. “I was just wondering if it were better I kiss you first before, you know...I get naked. Avoid awkward times with me naked while kissing you.” 

“I wouldn’t, not one bit, mind you being naked while kissing me, mullet.” Lance states matter of fact. “But I respect your wishes if you find this more comfortable.” 

Whatever the case, Lance is as comfortable as ever. 

“Cool,” Keith says. 

“Cool,” Lance responds. “Now, kiss me. Kiss...me…” He keeps on uttering the plea in a hot whisper till he feels a pair of plush, warm lips slide over his. 

A long awaited desperate whimper leave them both as they suck in aroused breaths of air through their noses, gaining oxygen to continue what has now been initiated. “Hnng…” Lance can’t control the sexual noises leaving his body, he was slammed into oblivion the moment Keith pressed and connected his lips with Lance’s. 

They part, but it’s still not enough. None of the pair are satisfied. Keith dives back in colliding into Lance, slamming into him with heavy kisses after the other. It’s like the most simplest of dances, like they’ve danced like this since their first meet. Their tongues finally meet with gratitude, touching and fighting tips with a loud moan erupting in their room. 

Keith starts rocking over Lance’s hips, threatening to begin the next game. “Keith…” Lance pushes the eager boy back, licking his lips, a long string of spittle shimmering down between their lips. “We…” He catches his breath, panting in union with Keith. 

“What...why can’t we just continue from here, McClain?” There he is, Dark Keith. Oh dear lord, Lance won’t recover from this. 

“Have you-” Lance clears his throat, everything around them has piqued into the flames of hell twice times over; attempting at regaining any semblance of presence, “Ever done  _ it  _ before?” 

Might as well throw the question out there first before things escalate. 

Highly aware of the question thrown into the open like a catapult, Keith slides off Lance’s hips, finding his way back to where he sat prior their heavy make out session. “Because...I haven’t.” Lance then admits. 

That catches Keith off guard, his eyes, those indigo hues shining brightly when they capture the news. A smile peeks through, then he claps a hand to the nape of his neck, silently chuckling. “Don’t worry, Lance. I’m a virgin, too. Waiting for the right moment…” His smile sends ten arrows to Lance’s heart. “How about you...are you waiting for the right moment?” 

And in that moment, Keith shimmies off his briefs, sitting starkly and prominently naked. Lance goes speechless, and needs to blink a few, million times before he figures out how speech works again because...wow... _ wowy _ , he needs a moment first. 

“That right moment,” Lance reiterates. “Right.” 

That draws out a loud, nice laugh out of the flustered pair, breaking the awkward ice that had stiffened between them. Although, something else is still precariously, stiff. “Here.” 

Lance does Keith yet another favor and lifts up on his knees, ass levitating, straightening his fingers and sliding them down the hem of his silky boxers, and glides them right off. Once they’re off, it’s clear that it’s all or nothing next round. 

If Keith wants a next round that is. 

Naked to the bone, Lance sweeps up the strewn cards, shuffling and not thinking about how stiff he is as well. He cuts the deck while Keith’s eyes follow the cards, asking, “Soo...Should the next wager be... _ it _ ?” 

“Just call it sex, Keith.” Lance pulls a corner of his lips while feeling slightly amused by this whole ordeal. 

Keith broods again, because he’s good at that. “I win, we do it? You win, we wait for another sign?” 

Signs? Since when has there ever been signs? 

“Fuck signs, Keith. But sure, so be it.” Lance bites his lip, ready to deal.


	5. All the way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a celebration! Congrats on reaching all of the goals. Just to note, this isn't very heavy, but it is smutty. Just don't expect the very nasty kind of smut. Just two boys having sex for the first time. And awkward times thrown in, because, come on, true love is when you can be awkward with your sexual partner. Ammiright?

Everything has become openly and definingly acutely aware in their hotel room. 

In other words, things have escalated, dramatically. For the better, though, Keith can quite agree, even if he is failing to feign any plume of bravery- being obviously shoo _ keith _ down to his very rattling bones. 

Not that he doesn’t see himself not having sex with Lance. It’s just that, he’s moments away from having sex with Lance. 

He is  _ moments  _ from having sex.  _ S-E-X. With. Lance _ .

Jesus, even saying it out loud in your mind is mind boggling. 

It seems that Lance is acutely aware to the fact that they might be inserting each other in less than, who knows, a few minutes, seconds? “Ready?” Lance stammers. His hands are shaking so much. 

Keith doesn’t think he’s terrified of having sex, just that it’s both their first time and they want it to be good. But they’ve heard the stories. Horror stories of how first times go by with couples. Not that him and Lance are a couple. Is that a sign? Should they be a couple first, establish that and then go insert their dicks in holes that are sacramented by the vow of boyfriendery? 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Keith breathes out in a haste. Which is weird. He doesn’t feel that tantalized by it anymore. Like, he’s going to have sex, and soon. And it’s going to be good. It’s going to be epic. Amazing. Perfect. 

Lance shuts his eyes once, like he’s making fun of Keith and can read his mind loud and clear. Clearly, he’s thinking the same things as Keith so he’s just losing at his own game laughing at himself. 

Yikes, okay, bouncing back he can definitely hear his heart pounding in his ears while Lance gets dealing. Lance doesn’t hold back on dealing, cutting 5 cards from the deck and flinging them to Keith, and drawing 5 cards for himself. 

Awkwardness aside, both their dicks are levitating from their laps, asking, no, pleading desperately to be played with instead of playing with the cards. Keith can feel his cock throbbing, twitching and leaking from the tip with pre-cum. 

He hasn’t jerked off today, saving it for his shower before bed, but he was so fired up from learning that he was bunking with Lance that his mood wasn’t in it at the time. But now, with Lance as naked as the day he was introduced into the world, and looking like a s-n-a-c-k, Keith can’t keep it dialed down anymore. He’ll let Lance bare witness to what his sexy body does to his begging cock. 

A loud swallow wakes up the room, Lance cutting his blue eyes from his cards to Keith gulping. His eyes meet his then instantly drop down to his throbbing length. That doesn’t help at all, Keith might as well throw the cards in Lance’s face and jump him if he keeps his eyes lingered on him. 

“Lance...you’re-” Keith gasps a little. “staring.” 

Running his tongue over his molars, Lance sends out a low, dark chuckle, “Is it getting you riled up, mullet?” He knows how to play it dirty, the fiend. 

“Y-yes.” Keith admits, the tip of his dick twitching at the sentiment, and Lance’s breathing grows rigidly loud. 

They get back to the game, but Keith can’t divert his eyes from how big Lance is. Exceptionally large, damn, he wonders how it’ll feel like to have him inside him, or how it’ll feel to be inside of him. Whichever way, he knows that he’ll be feeling something. Pain, pleasure; unquestionably, someone is going to be moaning loud tonight. 

If the cards in their hands allow them. 

Finally, after much tug and pull, Keith steals a glance at his cards, after riding his eyes a few times over Lance’s beautifully toned body. His six-pack abs, the hard, hard ridges of his abdominal muscles screaming lick me, and keeping with all the force he owns to stop imagining sucking his pink, pink nipples. Oh, but they looked so delicious, Keith can’t wait to grab a nibble. Nip him till his mewls turn into screams. 

He’ll be well fed, that’s for sure, Keith sighs out heavenly, but rips it away when he sees his hand. Fuck. Fuck it all to the deepest depths and nine rings of hell. 

His cards are shit. Crap on a stick, is what he’s holding in 5 separate cards. He can’t win with these cards. If Lance wins, they have to do it when another slot opens up for them. Rules are rules. But if Lance really wants this he can fold. Will he cheat? 

Keith starts studying Lance, thoroughly. Deeper than any ocean, his eyes grow into this contrasting color of blue that can only be compared to the eye of a dangerous storm. Lance has crap cards, too. It’s so obvious. Could he have crappier cards than Keith, though? If he folds and his cards are worse than Keith, then they do it. But if he folds and it turns out his cards are better than Keith’s. 

A grunt of frustration breaks Lance’s spell. “That’s it-” Keith starts, and Lance is on to him. 

3-2-1, “I fold.” They both say, throwing their cards to the floor. 

“You can’t fold, Lance…” Keith argues. 

“Why not? You folded...you lose we can’t do it!” Lance returns equally hot, his cock drooling with want.

The pre-cum glistens under the orange glow of their hotel lamp. Keith hops on all fours and starts picking up Lance’s cards to see what he had. “Mullet! Stop it.” Lance starts laughing uncontrollably, pushing him away from the flung cards. “It’s no use,” Lance says, then starts mixing all the cards together because he’s a shit kid. Keith forgot about that. 

“No one wins,” Lance cocks a smile, sitting on his bare ass, lifting his legs up to the side on their own before he crosses them and and his arms like an evil villain who’s won against the good guy. He shares an evil cackle to make his persona more authentic. 

A hair-raising cackle, but Keith positions himself on his hind legs and lunges forward, tackling the tan boy, “One more round!” Keith grunts when he body slams into Lance. 

They end up laughing, Keith resting on top of Lance’s chest, riding his hand everywhere now that he’s been given the lucky chance to do so. His fingertips sends sparks into Lance’s stomach, he hopes, when he feels Lance arching under his hungry touch, bellowing a loud yelp. That sends his hand smacking the boy’s peachy- and fucking soft - lips. 

“Shhh..” Keith hisses through his teeth, smiling like crazy it hurts, “We can’t wake up the teachers….they might find us like this and who knows what-” 

Lance kisses him. His lips, sweetness overload, they taste like a vanilla shake, he smells severely divine, too. Keith sighs into the kiss, pressing his lips firmly against Lance’s, a zealous moan being swallowed whole by the tan boy stealing all of his heart. 

They roll so Lance is on top of Keith now, peppering his chest with desirably, hot kisses. His lips are wet, warming his already searing skin with those feverish lips. Finally, his lips cradle around Keith’s nipple, a small hurt whimper escaping. “What?” 

“I wanted to suck your nipple, Lance,” Keith pouts, and Lance lunges turning that frown into a sweet, blooming smile. 

“So, this is happening?” Lance asks frivolously, a little too eager than Keith expected. 

He shoots a hand in Lance’s stupid, giddy face. “If you want to,” Keith says.

Lance bounces off of Keith, helping him up to his feet. Another acutely aware moment. Standing face to face, strong and tall, muscles bulging, peaking in all the right places, nipples perky and skin pebbled with anticipation, Lance tilts his head a fraction, “I want to only if you want to, mullet.” He smiles. 

Keith smiles back, leaning in for another long, hard, breath-stealing kiss. 

Once they part, they both look down.“Well, we both have fully erected penises and are completely naked, I think our penises would kill us if we didn’t go all the way now,” Keith jokes, and that earns him a wonderful chuckle from Lance. 

How did he ever hate this boy? 

“You’re such a sappy bastard, mullet.” 

Keith’s smile instantly frowns. That’s why. “Fuck off. You can’t think you hate me now, not after we’ve declared our best friendship!” Lance pushes Keith with the heel of his hand. 

His heart has gone completely staccato, he can’t keep the rhythm to the stillness of a pendulum swing. He’s too riled up, all revved and ready to do this. Do this with his best friend. “Hope you have a condom…” Keith says, because safety first, even if they are both virgins.

“Fuck.” Lance bites his lower lip, swiftly turning on his heel, and Keith’s heart sinks. “One sec.” Lance starts digging through his bag for a few long seconds, a packet of condoms swinging into view crinkling in his hand like a trophy. 

“You actually brought condoms to our school field trip?” Keith deadpans, hand weaving into his unruly hair, his tone of voice nothing but impressed, and a bit relieved. 

Lance shrugs his shoulders a nonchalant, like it was a no brainer. “You never know what can go down at a senior field trip, mullet.” He tips his upturned nose up a hair for satisfactory and bragging rights, “Exhibit A-” He pinpoints, and literally points a long finger at Keith’s penis. Which is still rushing blood to its head, wondering when the fuck they are going to fuck. 

Clamping his lips at the sight of Keith’s penis moving its head, pre-cum glistening all nice and wet from the eye, “And exhibit B-” Lance flicks his hard on. 

“Lance!” Keith laughs, shaking his head like he can’t believe all of this. 

“What?” 

“You’re such an idiot.” 

“Your idiot, perhaps?” 

Lance has taken up the space between them, nibbling at Keith’s earlobe. “Shush, you. I can’t believe an  _ innocent  _ game of strip poker went this far…” 

“Hey, it was bound to happen sooner or later. I could read our sexual tension as easy as a baby in need of sucking a teet,” Lance explains, flicking Keith’s nose when Keith isn’t holding back his loud bellow of a laugh. 

“Lance...what kind of analogy is that?” 

“Shut it, mullet,” Lance beams at the unintentional rhyme. “See, I could become the next Edgar Allan Poe. So there we go! Now then, uhm…” Lance goes quiet, eerily still, staring at his rummaged bag, thinking long and hard. 

Keith stares with him, “What is it now?” 

Then it dawns on them both. 

“Not it!” “Not i- fuck…” Keith huffs. “Well, I hope you brought lube..” he then addresses, or else he’s definitely royally fucked. 

Accepting that it will hurt, he doesn’t want it to hurt more than it needs to be. 

Lance hums, leading Keith on as he continues to hum and saunters back to his bag. Silently praying, Keith keeps his eyes locked on the tan boy while he goes back on the hunt for the must needed lubrication, “Aha!” Lance cheers, holding a small bottle and waving it in Keith’s now relieved face, “Tadaa!” 

“Don’t be so relieved, mullet. I’d be gentle with you no matter what. If it’d hurt, I’d pull out. I care for you more than seeing you be in pain,” Lance says, and Keith feels stricken by the sudden outbursts of affection being slingshotted his way. 

His smile tweaks into a lazy, happy smile, his chest flourishing in happiness. “I care about you, too, Lance. You know, despite all the ruckus we’ve caused for each other these past... _ three  _ years?” 

“No worries. I like it when we bicker, and our brawls are fun.” Lance avoids eye contact with Keith keeping a keen eye on the transparent bottle of lube. 

“Hey.” Keith caresses Lance’s cheek, shaping it with the palm of his hand. 

Lance leans into the touch, sending his blue eyes into Keith’s. “Yeah?” 

“You’re very resourceful,” Keith slaps out, repressing another laugh. 

A hard eye roll, harder than their dicks combined, Lance surges forth, “Great, I’ll make sure to write that on my college apps.” 

“I’m kidding. But, sure, go for it. Colleges like a resourceful student,” Keith chides. “No, I- I’m happy this is happening with you.” Then he kisses Lance, capturing his lips in a fervor that won’t spell release anytime soon. 

While they continue kissing, they tumble onto the hotel bed, getting tangled under the sheets and growing aquainted, finally, with each other’s naked bodies. 

Lance nips at Keith’s bottom lip when he settles himself on top of his chest, kicking his thighs apart as his heat presses against Lance’s. Their dicks clash, but Lance isn’t there yet, he steals a wet kiss from Keith before confessing to him. 

“To put things straight, mullet.” They both slip out a small giggle at the ironic pun, his fingers carding nonsensically through Keith’s hair. He hums all satisfied to the soft, gentle touch, urging Lance to go on with his little speech. “I really do like you, like...a lot. It’s just that, I enjoyed our rivalry a little too much, too, and was afraid you wouldn't feel the same about this and  _ yadi yada yada _ ...You get the gist, but like, confessing felt somewhat nece-” 

Keith cups a hand around the nape of Lance’s neck, dragging him up close so their foreheads bump lightly onto each other. Damn, his eyelashes are infinitely long, specially when he blinks and the tips flutter past the tops of his cheeks, creating long shadows. Keith is starstruck, but says, “Whatever, Lance. Everything you just said, it matters, but right now, we’re best friends. We can upgrade to something more afterwards. I’m fucking parched right now.” 

Then he drags Lance’s lips to his, sliding his feet up so his knees peak towards the roof, rocking his hips, while his hands grasp his perfect ass, so that Lance can grind on his cock. Fuck, his own cock bleeds with starving want as it brushes and grinds with Lance’s. 

“I-” Keith desperately pleads through exasperation, “I need you...Lance. Inside of me... _ now _ ..” Begging now.

Stealing a quick peck on the crest of Keith’s cheek, he fishes the lube, slathers a generous amount on his fingers riding his hand down under the covers till his fingers line up to Keith’s rim, “If it hurts.”

“You’ll hear it, don’t worry,” Keith sneers as he hisses, digging his fingertips into Lance’s hard back. 

Lance hisses at how hard Keith’s fingertips bite into his back, arching before inserting one digit in his hole. A moan grunts from the back of Keith’s throat, “One more- it’s-  _ goood _ …” He moans, proving how good it feels. 

“L..ance…” 

Another digit inserts, glides nicely in, but it’s a tight fit. He starts pumping his fingers inside Keith, taking his other hand and fisting his throbbing cock. “F...F-Fuuuck…” Keith keeps on hissing as he runs his teeth over and over along his nether lips, rocking his hips in tandem to Lance’s pumping. 

Moans rip out from the both of them once Keith is used to the hot sensation of his hole being finger fucked, his dick jerked off by anyone that isn’t himself. He finds usage to his free hands and curls his own fingers around Lance’s cock, palming it, and starts rubbing, fast, but at a pace that doesn’t make Lance come quite yet. 

“Are we rea…” Lance tries so hard to get any coherent words out but Keith knows he’s doing a fine job playing with the boy’s dick- 

He steals, captures, revels in another warm, unraveling kiss, keeping his teeth tugging at Lance’s lip when he says through his bite, “Condom…” 

“Right.” Lance releases his grip on Keith’s dick, slapping the night stand for a wrapper, ripping it open with his teeth, trying to succeed in multitasking. 

Keith starts laughing, his whole body shaking and startling the boy whose fingers are still inside of him. “Mullet. Stop laughing, you’re ruining the moment.” 

“Dude, this is the moment. I’m on cloud nine.” He admits with a dreamy voice, brushing away Lance’s sweat-slicked bangs to give him visual of the condom.

Lance gets busy, pulls out his fingers, a small disappointed whine bubbling out of Keith. “Quit your whining, I’ll be in you soon enough. Just need to-” Lance starts studying the condom, pursing his lips. 

“It’s like how we learned in sex-ed: pinch the tip, place the end of the condom over your dick and roll-”

“I KNOW HOW TO PUT ON A CONDOM, KEITH,” Lance yells, grimacing. Keith winces but slams a hand on both his and Lance’s mouth, warm breath tickling the inside of his hand. He starts shaking again, because this is too much. 

Safe and sound, no one barges into their room. Lance goes back to the rolling. “I was sitting right next to you, slipping the condom over the banana like a fucking pro…” Lance complains, reminiscing back to sophomore year when they were flustered as hell being sat next to each other learning about how to place a condom on properly. 

Lance falls onto his ass, the duvet settling on his shoulders like a cape. He looks like a prince; Keith sighs at the sight. “What?” Lance grunts, pinching the tip again, now placing the condom over his erect penis, and rolling it down, down, down- “Perfect. See, fucking pro.” 

“Great. Now show me what else you’re a pro in.” Keith taunts, and Lance glomps him. 

“So...uh- missionary position?” Lance locks his gaze on Keith. The light is still on, a soft, yellow glow. It’s nice, Keith likes it like this. His first time so thrown out in the open like this. Intimacy, shimtimacy...he’ll take awkward times over anything. This is perfect. 

Lining up, Keith feels the tip of Lance’s cock parting his cheeks, “If it hurts…” 

“Just get on with it…” 

“Your funeral.” 

“Shut up, you’re next.” Keith threatens, and they both snicker and kiss at that. 

Then Lance enters him. 

Keith doesn’t feel much at first, but then-his grip tightens around Lance’s arms, the further he burrows in him. 

“Does it hurt? I can slather on more lube?” 

“N...nooo….” He slides out all in one breath once Lance is all the way in. “Go on..” He moans. “-it’s good. Shit.” 

Lance sends out a low, sexy, very sexy,  _ heh _ , and starts thrusting. They’re hesitant at first, careful like he’s taking care of Keith making sure it still doesn’t hurt, but Keith isn’t having it. He slams his own form of thrust, retaliating back at Lance, egging him on to make them more shallow. 

More dirty. 

“At your command, your highness.” Lance mutters through panted breaths, moans rippling out of him the harder he slams into Keith, his thrusts surely growing more shallow. 

Slamming into him, Keith holds on to Lance’s back with all of his strength, arching his back for Lance’s tip to hit his sweet spot, and, “Oooh, fuck- mmmph...more, harder, Lance-” Keith grunts, whimpers, whines- 

His voice goes into a babble, just spewing nonsense as his eyes loll back at how good Lance feels inside him. He wants to come, and so does Lance. 

Keith starts, very shakily, fisting his own cock, rubbing it as fast as he can manage by the impact that’s inside him, pumping all he can…

“I’m..close...Keith.” Lance splutters, beads of sweat dripping on Keith’s face. 

Keith moans. Lance returns with a louder moan, thrusting once more, zealously, undignified. Then he tenses up, his whole body stiffening inside Keith as he climaxes. A long, dragged out sigh crawls out of Lance’s throat, and the same happens with Keith when ribbons of white finds a nice spot on both their stomachs. 

For a few minutes, Lance relaxes on top of Keith’s chest, sighing contently to Keith weaving his fingers through his tousled brown locks. “Mm, feels good.” Lance can hardly form words, he’s beaten to the core. “Tha- wa- so…” 

“Shhh. We can brag about it once you’ve landed back on Earth. Bask in the high.” Keith kisses the tip of Lance’s nose. 

A few more minutes pass and Lance finally lands on Earth, rolling off of Keith. And Keith then takes notice to his hairy thighs and how they’re caked in his cum. 

He grimaces. 

“Told ya shaving is beneficial. I’ll show you tomorrow.” Lance snickers, planting a loving hand on Keith’s chest. 

Keith is too beat, slapping a hand on top of Lance’s. “So..” Keith sounds out, wanting Lance’s attention. 

Lance slides his face to meet with Keith’s. “So…?” 

A smile bursts forth a bright and toothy on the both of them, still a bit surprised by the turn of events. “Can I upgrade our best friend relationship to boyfriends?” Keith asks, his cheeks biting him like fire ants, heart skipping and kicking to come out of his chest. 

Lance makes a teasing smirk. Dimwit, he has that affinity to him, always being a fucking tease. He ignores Keith’s question entirely, leaning over the edge of the bed, returning with a card slid between his fingers. 

A challenging glare transforms on that beautiful, tan face, blue eyes washing over him like an ocean waving over sparkling sand. “Play you for it?” Lance challenges, his grin growing wide. 

Keith grabs his pillow and smacks it in Lance’s face. 

“Mullet!” 


End file.
